Another random idea. I like Ann she's cool and I like Bobby/Ann so I just went with it. I'm a bit of a Dallas fanatic too now.
recommend this song to go along with the fic- Brad Paisley's We Danced
Ann thinks it's strange to come home to a house filled with music.
Ann doesn't know it, but when he's alone Bobby likes to pull out the old record player. Dust it off and shine it up, polish it until it's shining. Then he takes out the crates, strong wooden ones he can remember building as a kid with his dad watching him with a twinkle in his eye. It was never about building them though, wasn't about his daddy being proud either, in fact it was about what was going into the crates. And now 50 years later he pulls them out so he can get to the records.
Good, quality, vinyl that he spent any extra money he had on. They were from all different genres, artist from all walks of life; to Bobby though there was no artist or genre- there was just music, just soul and feeling.
Bobby likes to have the whole house filled with soul, with music. He likes to feel it wash over him like a wave. To him, it's perfect, having all this feeling and emotion around you, all explained from a few notes blown into a horn or plucked on a string.
Ann loves music as well; to come home to it rolling through her halls makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, makes a grin split her face. It's invigorating, happy, joyful the best feeling in the world. She loves the way the sound fills her up, how it can change, reflect, or enhance her mood.
Ann loves how music is the one thing everyone can relate to, it's the one thing that will always connect everyone and anyone. It says everything that's been said and everything left unsaid.
To Ann it's strange to come home to a house filled with music, but it's not unwelcomed, far from it really.
To Bobby it's strange to have Ann home when music's rolling through the halls. He thinks it's embarrassing to turn around and find Ann standing there, watching him as he moves with the music.
Ann thinks it's cute.
They laugh about it as they twirl across the floor. Hand in hand, arms wrapped around each other, feet moving in sync. Neither of them can express what happiness they feel, can't explain how they know where to move and where to step. Ask either of them and they'll simply tell you 'It's the music.'
Ann comes to a house full of music everyday now, it's not strange.
Bobby doesn't listen to music alone anymore.
Instead, the music plays and, they glide over the oak like shadows on the wall; moving like water, always in step, holding each other close.
Instead, the music plays and they dance, like no one's ever danced before, together.